Remember, remember — fireworks tonight. Up in the northern isles they may just go with the Aurora Borealis
Skaill House where the folks who discovered Skara Brae lived.
A harsh but beautiful location on the bay.
Even in the off season, there’s a beauty in the formal(ish) garden.
The high-backed chair to guard from those pernicious drafts.
Most of the stuff in this house was the fancy frou-frou I’m not particularly fond of, but they did have Capt Cook’s china in the cabinet of the formal dining room.
A library! Now that’s more like it.
A Norse calendar stick with runes.
What’s a library without a hidden compartment?
…and a fancy window?
Ah, the explorer’s room.
The bishop’s bed when he lived here in the 16th century; there’s a small reproduction of St Magnus’ Cathedral in the room which I forgot to take a picture of.
Not *that* John Peel. I think.
The laird of the house received the order of St Magnus from King Olaf himself.
Here’s his formal wear.
The cattle seem to thrive in the blustery conditions.
Our lodgings with the Harray Potter, where Amy was apprenticing, were a bit simpler but more comfortable. Nice pottery, too!
Like Austen heroines, we were diligent in our correspondence.
I am eager to go back to Orkney. It’s quite a striking place. The people who choose to live there are extraordinary. In the meantime, I’m NaNo-ing and getting ready to head south for the Weird Conference on Wednesday, where I’ll talk about Weird Noir. The days are just packed.